


Ark Of The Complicit

by grayorca, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Skynet [6]
Category: Castle Rock (TV), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Drama, Family, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 07:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca/pseuds/grayorca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Wings AU. Deviancy is a very loosely-defined word in this world.





	Ark Of The Complicit

**Author's Note:**

> AKA just a bunch of drabble that was intended to progress the case but turned into character development instead.
> 
> Because we found a name/persona for our Nines. :3

Of all the books Conner/Nines could have pulled a more-unique designation from, he had to defer a religious text? ****  
** **

It didn’t any more endear him to the humans than it made him seem more approachable on a whole. That is, despite his begrudging acceptance of the name Nines, a certain other RK had put the notion in his head that picking his own name showed compelling initiative. ****  
** **

(Fancy way of saying the RK900 did so to seem more likable.) ****  
** **

If only his stuffy, holier-than-thou air somehow modulated itself to fit the name Noah as seamlessly. ****  
** **

He had to work on that. ****  
** **

——- ****  
** **

Charlie had let his crying peter out after awhile, slowly taking fewer and fewer deep breaths to power his own sobs, even if he didn't need them, until he was all but silent, still sitting huddled up against Trevor.  ****  
** **

He didn't pull away, though, just slumped over on him as if he had no strength to get up. Maybe he didn't. It was the first time he really let everything built up, only to be let out in such an outburst, especially with so many people around. The sounds of Joey's music came through to him eventually, giving Charlie something else to focus on them the words Connor left with him.  ****  
** **

Sure, he could accept it was an extremely careless, reckless thing that he led Joey and Trevor into doing, but to bring Henry into it… thinking of him again, Charlie let out a quiet hiccup, burying himself further into Trevor’s shoulder.  ****  
** **

It didn't bear thinking about, not so soon after all that went down. Images and fronts be damned, Charlie didn't really give a shit just what anyone would be thinking of when they saw him like this.  ****  
** **

Joey may have asked Nick to stand guard, but that would only last for so long. He had other official duties to see to besides keep the ridicule away. ****  
** **

The first person to get by him turned out to be the second-to-last face any of the couriers wanted to see. ****  
** **

Letting out a quiet whimper at seeing Nines’ face, Charlie turned his head away from the glass, gripping onto Trevor's arm harder. It wasn't the newer model’s fault he looked so much like Connor, but it still gave the courier a jolt to see him standing there.  ****  
** **

The music from Joey abruptly dialed down in volume. “The fuck you want, Wise Guy?” ****  
** **

A click from the intercom answered prudently. “Nothing. I was only wondering… how you are?” ****  
** **

“Oh, just dandy, besides your jackass of a big brother raking us over the coals. Beat it! We don’t have anything more to say until Molly gets here.” ****  
** **

“We're… fine,” Charlie managed to get out. He was sure it was muffled by his position, pressed against Trevor, doubly so from the way Joey was half leaned over him, wings encompassing them both. “Thanks.”  ****  
** **

There was no signifying click of the intercom deactivating. Only an expectant silence ensued. ****  
** **

Joey eventually growled again: “You hear what he said? Get lost.” ****  
** **

“I’m sorry. That was unbecoming of him.” ****  
** **

Was that all he came to say? Apologize about Connor? It was - appreciated, sure, but at the moment, Charlie sort of wished he would listen to Joey. He was already feeling as overly emotional as he was, there was no way he wanted to start crying,  _ again,  _ just because someone brought up what happened.  ****  
** **

“Uh, it's - it's fine.” Rushing the words out, Charlie took another peek at Nines from over Joey’s arm, before settling himself back against Trevor. “Thanks, though. Don't worry about it.”  ****  
** **

A ping against his commlink array indicated otherwise. Nines was worried. ****  
** **

_ But wasn’t it my fault you knew about that address at all? _ ****  
** **

Charlie really didn't wanna deal with any guilt Nines might be feeling about what had happened. Really, how the other android supposed to know just how much a reckless idiot he was? And it wasn't like the prototype gave him the information on purpose.  ****  
** **

But, he was asking. If he was looking for a reassurance, one way or another, Charlie could confirm it for him.  ****  
** **

_ No, dude. You can't help when you - glitch, or something like that. And even if I knew, I didn't have to go. No one forced me.  _ ****  
** **

With that, Charlie let out another hiccup, almost wavering toward another cry. No one forced him, and he still did it, put him and Joey and Trevor in danger, even when he knew it was a bad idea, that they already lost Henry… he didn't want to think of it.  ****  
** **

The hiccup served only to push Joey toward another low growl of aggravation. With a sharp rustle of feathers, his wings fanned out in full, covering all three of them from view. ****  
** **

_ And no one forced Connor to take the tone he did in confronting you. It was most unprofessional. _ ****  
** **

Another brief pause laid itself between the two sides. ****  
** **

_ I’ll talk to him. He may yet see reason. _ ****  
** **

_ No - don't do that, please _ . The thought of Nines doing so, even with the best intentions, made him whimper, hands balling into fists to stop the worst of the shaking. He was glad Joey covered all of them, so the other android couldn't see his distress.  _ Please, don't. He's already mad enough.  _ ****  
** **

_ That’s just it, Charlie - that he’s mad at all indicates he isn’t being objective. Stand by. _ ****  
** **

With no more of a farewell than that, the comm disconnected. The intercom clicked again. Muffled footsteps outside the glass paced away. ****  
** **

Relatively assured they had been left alone once again, Joey lifted his head out above the cover of his own wings and scoffed. “Fuckin’ nosy bastard.” ****  
** **

“Mm.” Charlie didn't really have anything else to say to that - arguing was definitely not a route he wanted to go down at the moment. It was nice of Nines, to want to help, but they could go without it for now. Instead he merely burrowed his face into Trev's shoulder.  ****  
** **

Hopefully whatever assistance the RK900 had in mind wouldn’t blow up in his face. ****  
** **

——- ****  
** **

In hindsight, they hadn’t actually introduced themselves the last time Molly Strand had had cause to collect Charlie from Central Station. And while she wasn’t a suspect, anyone brought to the interrogation room would, by default, be more tense than usual. ****  
** **

But it was the only semi-private place Connor could think of to talk to her. Hank was still unreachable, busy as the man was with their greater caseload. But with three of her couriers in holding now, and a fourth deactivated one still hanging down in their evidence locker, there would never be a better chance to talk to her, uninterrupted, than now. ****  
** **

Molly had crossed her arms as soon as she was led into the room, clearly agitated by the whole situation, even without knowing all the details just yet. Taking one look around the room, she crossed them tighter, before turning to Connor. “Will you tell me what's going on, now?” ****  
** **

“If you’ll take a seat first.” He nodded toward the waiting table, without taking his eyes off her. A quick scan already showed her pulse was up. “There are quite a few aspects to go over.”  ****  
** **

“Fine.” Without saying anything else, purse on her shoulder, Molly took her seat at the table. Her arms still stayed crossed, foot tapping the floor with impatience, and nervousness. “Now, will you?”  ****  
** **

Impatience. Anxiousness. Two overriding impulses that might completely muddle her ability to think objectively. He would have to make up for that by affecting more professional calmness than anything else. ****  
** **

Resisting an urge to frown, Connor took his place in the chair opposite hers. “I assume Dennis told you the basics of what happened. Over the phone?” ****  
** **

Clearly, she already had some idea of what was happening. But it would help to know just what her takeaway was. At the worst, her couriers were being detained against their will. At best, they were here of their own volition, at the risk of losing their wings. ****  
** **

He kept his own held low for the moment, pulled in tight against his back. Only the alula feathers peeked over his shoulders. The tips of the primaries lay bent against the floor. ****  
** **

For the moment, he didn’t care. ****  
** **

“I know the basics, yes. That three of my boys decided to get themselves arrested,  _ again,  _ and now are being held here.” Molly let out a sniff after saying so, clearly more than a little nervous and upset about just what their fate could entail. “What more can you tell me?”  ****  
** **

_ Her boys. That’s certainly in keeping with their… domestic mentality. It’s not about business, as far as she’s concerned. _ ****  
** **

Connor reminded himself to blink, so as to not seem lost in thought. “Besides the fact they did so willingly? They’ve admitted to trespassing on private property, besides breaking-and-entering.” ****  
** **

“Why did they even - go, and how did they know?” At that, Molly glared at him, trying to make sense of just what happened, and why. “Who told them about this building? I want to know.”  ****  
** **

No good options there. The  _ why _ was too sensitive a matter, and  _ how _ inherently led into the  _ who _ of the equation. If he went for the former, he would only have an even-more upset woman in need of consolation. ****  
** **

On the other hand, if he confessed to his hand in the case, good intentions be damned, it was only because Charlie had come back, wanting to see if any progress had been made in Henry’s murder, that they were here now. The scan/recog was Connor’s idea, after all. ****  
** **

“Well… on that front… I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Strand.” ****  
** **

_ Let her jump to that conclusion. Let her think it was you. No need to bring Noa- Nines into it. _ ****  
** **

Yet. ****  
** **

“Are you saying you told him?  _ Why  _ would you do that?” Flabbergasted, she threw her hands up, before letting throwing them down on the table, palms open in exasperation. “You - you know Charlie! He's the most impulsive, reckless kid I know, he probably gets it from Joey - you should know he would go there!”  ****  
** **

Keeping his expression reigned in, besides a subtle lip twitch, Connor didn’t look away from her livid brown eyes - a much darker shade than his own. For the moment, he was content to let himself (and his competence) be questioned. “It wasn’t intentional, ma’am. We were trying to ascertain just who attacked him last week, but the facial recognition process glitched, and Charlie retained a few files. One of them contained the address he and his - friends broke into.” ****  
** **

“You can call them brothers,” she shot back, before deflating with a sigh. “And he didn't tell you he had them, huh? Well… that sounds like him, at least. You should have known better, though. Especially with Charlie.”  ****  
** **

Maybe he should have. But it was the only way to be helpful at the time. The Zug Island case was dead in the water, were it not for the eventual discovery of owl feather down at the Delray warehouse. The odds that an associate of Sindino happened to be at the scene of Charlie’s near-abduction were too coincidental to be chance. ****  
** **

He needn’t go into his feelings about Charlie and not wanting to disappoint the hotshot courier in not making progress on Henry’s case. On that front, Connor had to respect the personal/professional line in the sand. ****  
** **

“Consider me advised. Did you have any other questions?” ****  
** **

“What's going to happen with them? Can I take them home now, or are you holding them much longer?”  ****  
** **

It wasn’t a repeat of the flea market pursuit, thankfully. No one had actually been hurt (not counting the gash in Joey’s arm). But being civically bound to notify Mr. Sindino of the damage to his property, regardless of what was found there, certainly obfuscated the matter. ****  
** **

Not to mention what the couriers had seen there. Molly would be told within minutes of them reuniting. ****  
** **

“Technically speaking, they  _ are _ the evidence of their own misdeeds. We will have to hold them overnight, or at least until the property owner has been notified of the issue.” ****  
** **

“Overnight?” Molly echoed, a look of disbelief coming over her face. Her hands came back up to the table, one hand pointing at him. “They're going to have to sleep here, is what you're telling me? And I'm expected to leave them by themselves? Who will even be here at night? They'll be left all alone.”  ****  
** **

Spoken as if it were so unthinkable. Android suspects committing crimes on the same basis as their human counterparts, was it not within the DPD’s power to detain/confiscate them? ****  
** **

It wasn’t as if Charlie had his own lawyer to defend his quasi-approximate rights. ****  
** **

“They’ll be under guard, Miss Strand. And they will remain here in a holding cell, as opposed to remanded to a jail cell. Until the matter has been brought to the owner’s attention, our hands are tied.” ****  
** **

Surely there were worse places they could be. Not temporarily offlined and hung up in an evidence locker was one of them. ****  
** **

“Fine. But if anything happens to them, and I mean  _ any  _ of them…” Molly trailed off, narrowing her eyes at Connor with the vague threat. “You know I won't stand for it. They better be okay, when I get them tomorrow.”  ****  
** **

_ If Dennis had his way, he’d sooner pluck their wings off and send them home tonight. Cut out the middleman. _ ****  
** **

“I’m aware,” Connor affirmed, still with the vaguely-detached tone. Then, thinking twice of it, he tried for a half-smirk. “If anyone is to be compromised by this arrangement, it’ll most likely be me.” ****  
** **

It was the least of which he deserved, according to her assumptions. ****  
** **

The upset anger in her face faded at the look, leaving her to slump down again, trying for her own half-embarrassed smile. “I'm sorry, I know we've been here a lot, in the past week or so. They're not - bad people, just reckless. They're not all made to be couriers, we bring them in as we see fit… a lot of different personalities in the mix. They pick up on it from each other. And the three of them, they're already so close… I'm not surprised it was them.”  ****  
** **

That certainly corresponded with what he saw in the cell. And with Henry’s death, it was no wonder why everyone at Overclocked may well be acting out of their normal patterns. Human or android, he seemed to be an integral staple of their business. ****  
** **

Business going on family, that was. ****  
** **

“I’m familiar with the dynamic. My partners and I don’t always make the most informed decisions together, either.” Pausing to let that sink in, he thought back to their initial meeting, after Charlie had agreed to accept the fallout of his botched escape. “What is it about Charlie, though? What was his original role?” ****  
** **

“Charlie… he was a musician model, guitar. He still plays sometimes, when he can get his hands on one, I always stop to listen.” At the memory, Molly softened even more, smile going from small and embarrassed to full-fledged and genuine. “I don't suppose you know much music, but he's definitely modeled off of 90's grunge. He was part of a band, originally, I believe…”  ****  
** **

Part of a band. That would follow with his desire to fit into a group, despite his sometimes-aloof demeanor. To play any kind of instrument usually required a more disciplined mindset, allegedly. And to do so as one element of a band took a special kind in itself, one that didn’t mind sharing the spotlight. ****  
** **

Perhaps Charlie spontaneously decided one day he didn’t care for that. Maybe he wasn’t compatible with his preselected band mates. ****  
** **

A deviant from the start, in other words. ****  
** **

“And how did you… come to meet him, if I may ask?” ****  
** **

“He was always - impulsive, even before Joey. He struck out on his own without even having a plan, I'm sure… which meant he had nowhere to stay.” Molly shook her head at the foolishness, but not without the smile. “My business had its first couple androids already, not any of them really couriers, so it wasn't unusual for us to take some strays in. He was the one who found us, though.”  ****  
** **

_ And the rest is history. If he didn’t mesh with those androids he was designed for, he found them after taking a second chance. _ ****  
** **

Connor could admit to a little envy. It was more selection than he or his partners had been afforded. Earning their wing components was more of an open choice. ****  
** **

Whoever Charlie’s original owner had been, they apparently weren’t even bothered enough to report him as missing. PC500s weren’t the most popular of models, but they were versatile. ****  
** **

“And last night was probably a foray back to those days he is very much regretting. That wanderlust never quite left him.” ****  
** **

“I think it only grew. Not like we did much to discourage him…” Trailing off, Molly shrugged again, seeming much calmer than when she first arrived. “I am sorry, for the trouble he's caused you, him, Joey, and Trevor. They all just - are very eager to help, any way they can. Especially since it was Henry.”  ****  
** **

Tempting as it was to delve into that angle, Connor refrained. It was a sore enough subject, given the lack of progress, never mind how fresh a lead they had to chase down. ****  
** **

“We understand, Miss Strand. But… we will make something of it, one way or another.” ****  
** **

Despite the calamity, Charlie was to thank, in part, for not simply deleting the address. If the warehouse was still in use, the culprits behind the floor of spare parts might yet be apprehended. ****  
** **

Meanwhile, the three amateur misdemeanants were better off in protective custody. ****  
** **

Because what adjective best fit their ‘crime’ than a made up one? ****  
** **

——- ****  
** **

Face blank, Nines didn’t have very many visual tells. But the twitch of his thin, sharp wings could only be described as agitated as he came to an abrupt stop, reading the report. The invisible gears in his head seemed to screech to a stop. ****  
** **

“This isn’t a real word.” ****  
** **

Nick frowned, turning more of his attention back toward Nines at the abrupt stop. “Misdemeanants? Yeah, I think Connor made it up. ...It's okay, though, no one will really care.”  ****  
** **

“There shouldn’t be a fake word in the report.” ****  
** **

On the contrary, it would seem Nines would and was caring, quite a bit. ****  
** **

Well, what was there that Nick could do to help with that? It was already in the report, and it sorta… fit, with what he heard about the three androids in the holding cell. He had held watch over them as long as he could, before being called away. Hopefully no one had bugged them too much, since then.  ****  
** **

“Sorry about that,” he said eventually. “Well, I'll try and make sure he sticks to real words, next time.”  ****  
** **

He almost felt several IQ points dumber, receiving nothing more than a very stern, icy glare in response. Nothing in those words indicated the promise would be honored. With only another wing twitch, Nines kept reading. If there was any way to amend it at a later date, he was clearly planning on doing just that. ****  
** **

Nick turned his attention back to the report as well, keeping his eyes angled toward Nines. It hadn't been long at all, since the newest RK was brought to the station - it was best someone kept watch on him. Though, Nick probably had much different reasons for wanting to do so than Connor would.  ****  
** **

But on the surface, it didn’t look like there was much reciprocal contest between the lookalikes. They seemed to be hashing out the pecking order as indirectly as possible.

“They're going to stay overnight,” Nick said after a moment, trying to find some other topic to turn the other android’s mind to, besides the error in the report. “The three of them, apparently.”  ****  
** **

That followed: it had been at least three hours since Molly Strand left the station. And she did so as alone as when she arrived. ****  
** **

“Standard procedure.” Without looking up, without as little as a twitch of his eyes, Nines scrolled to the next page. “And provided Connor keeps his distance, there shouldn’t be any trouble.” ****  
** **

“I'm sure he will, the way that went down. I think even he gets he went too far.” Even if Connor wouldn't admit it, that was probably true. But as long as he did like Nines said, there wouldn't be any more problems… hopefully.  ****  
** **

It wasn’t just happenstance they were currently stationed on the perches above Fowler’s office. So long as there weren’t any more pressing calls, Nines was (unofficially) intent on playing lookout. It had gone quiet inside the holding cell. His new task was making sure it stayed that way. ****  
** **

“Are you going to talk to them?” he asked, watching Nines watch the general direction of the holding cell, between lines of police intel. “Or… have you talked to them?”  ****  
** **

“The latter.” ****  
** **

“Oh. They were… okay?”  ****  
** **

“Physically no worse for wear, yes.” ****  
** **

“Physically.” Nick repeated to himself, before beginning to worry away at his lip. “But not… they didn't feel any better.”  ****  
** **

“I have many features, Nicholas, but even I can’t overclock the rate at which another android’s behavior inhibitors reset.” ****  
** **

Oh, that made sense - there was no rushing making Charlie and his friends feel better. Only time and a brief face-to-face chat with Molly could do that. ****  
** **

“I know,” he sighed, before resting his head back onto his bent knees. There was no use going back down that road of conversation again. Instead, Nick took a glance at the wings Nines had. They seemed almost odd for someone with his frame - too thin and sharp from a side view, but once spread, the primaries looked like white knife blades dipped in ash. “...What are your wings?”  ****  
** **

“Laridae class.” ****  
** **

“But what - inside that class. You don't have to just answer the questions insofar as they’re asked, you can add more information to it. That's how you carry a conversation.” It didn't particularly bother Nick to have to point that out to Nines, but it was an important part of life, for anyone. Best he learned it now with someone who wouldn't get mad, right? “Like, what do they help you with? Why that type?”  ****  
** **

The tablet gave a faint  _ whirr _ as its screen dimmed. Actually putting aside computing power to think on his answer, Nines glanced over his own shoulder. The off-white synthetic appendage testing there contrasted sharply with the black fabric. ****  
** **

“They’re… supposedly based on a tern. The Arctic tern. It was a migratory species only found in the northernmost latitudes. As for why they were declared a fit for me… I’m guessing it’s because they’re as experimental as the rest of my design.” ****  
** **

Now there was a way to cut corners: field test a new variant of laridae wings with a new variant of deviant hunter. ****  
** **

Rather than test both elements separately. ****  
** **

“Oh. Well… they're pretty. Very striking, when you use them.” It was true - Nick at least couldn't help but look when they were spread out. Of course, he did so with any set of wings, but… there was something to them.  ****  
** **

Clearly unused to receiving a compliment, Nines only raised an eyebrow by way of reaction. Pondering the context, his eyes went half-lidded. “Thank you. …What about yours?” ****  
** **

Taking a look back at his own wings, Nick studied them for a moment. “Mmm… barn swallow. That's why they're so long, even though I'm so tall.”  ****  
** **

“I see. Why not an albatross, then?” Squinting, clearly running a scan to examine them himself, Nines frowned. If their less-than-immaculate state of the dark blue feathers rankled, he didn’t say as much. “The wing-to-body ratio would’ve been within acceptable parameters.” ****  
** **

“I dunno, really. Maybe they thought it would fit me, since I'm already tall, but really… they're still long. And I still get stuck, even when I'm supposed to be good at getting through small spaces.” Nodding up at the landing ledge doors, where they could enter and exit, Nick grinned. “Got stuck in those a couple times. And fell.”  ****  
** **

Admitting his clumsiness didn’t appear to immediately endear him to the other android. The frown disappeared. But the depreciating glare and encore raised eyebrow Nines cast at him said it all. ****  
** **

_ Honestly? _ ****  
** **

They were supposed to be top of the line. ****  
** **

Nick had to bite his lip to prevent it from turning into an even wider grin. Nines looked so much like a disappointed Connor, it was honestly funny. Best to just try and keep his composure, even at such a similarity.  ****  
** **

_ Yep. I got stuck coming in once, Connor had to let me pull on him to get myself loose. Thankfully, that was one of the times I didn't fall.  _ ****  
** **

_ And your… reputation, that says you’ve cost Central Station at least a dozen tablets? That’s also true? _ ****  
** **

_ Uh… maybe not  _ that  _ many. But yeah, I don't - I'm clumsy. I drop them easily, when I'm up here, but I like being up here. I've gotten better, though.  _ ****  
** **

Undoubtedly wondering just how it was he could be afforded so many chances and not be recalled, Nines’ attention went back to the tablet. The screen popped on without being touched. ****  
** **

_ I guess we should be grateful for the magnetic anchors, then. _ ****  
** **

The same inbuilt technology that kept their wings affixed to their backs afforded them a good grip on the perches. Similar plates installed in their feet could be engaged with only a thought, keeping a runaway landing from really turning catastrophic. ****  
** **

But there were always exceptions, to determine a margin of error with. ****  
** **

Like when he first dropped a tablet, because he ended up swinging upside down. Now there was an experience Nick didn't want to repeat, verbally or otherwise, even if others in the station seemed to find it funny. He had swallow wings, not bat.  ****  
** **

…Wouldn’t  _ that _ be novel? ****  
** **

Fishing for a new topic, Nines eventually spoke up again. ****  
** **

_ It’s the same kind of leeway that lets you insist on your own designation, correct? I’ve noticed no one actually calls you Nicholas… except Connor. _ ****  
** **

_ I prefer Nick, yes.  _ There was no harm in telling Nines that, especially when he was someone who might be in the market for a new name or nickname himself.  _ Connor doesn't really… care, what I prefer. But I like Nick more, so that's what most people call me.  _ ****  
** **

_ And they don’t ridicule you for it? Think it… deviant of you? _ ****  
** **

_ They… they might think that. Honestly, a lot of stuff I do could be considered that.  _ It wasn't as if Nines wouldn't be able to see that for himself, the way he was treated and acted. Nick could admit to the way it seemed, because it was just what it looked like. No sense denying it.  _ But no one ridiculed me. Nothing like that.  _ ****  
** **

_ …Hm. Odd. _ ****  
** **

Spoken like someone who truly never had seen the world outside of Belle-Isle. ****  
** **

——- ****  
** **

Charlie shared close quarters with two dozen or so other androids at the depot, but it was never as cramped as this. They all had their own beds there, and if one happened to wake up, they were free to move around, long as they kept quiet enough to not wake anyone else up.  ****  
** **

Not the way they were now, haphazardly piled onto the one bench-posing-as-a-bed in the holding cell, Charlie squished between Trevor and Joey, almost sliding off of it. His own wings were half-wrapped around himself in an attempt to make more room for the three of them, while both Joey and Trev had opted to fold one, and stretch the other out like blankets over all of them.  ****  
** **

Overall, it made for an odd experience, to say the least. But at least Joey had left his music on for them. It was all songs easily recognized, some playlist he must have made specifically for Charlie and Trevor.  ****  
** **

“ _ Carry on my wayward son, they'll be peace when you are done…” _ ****  
** **

That was one of Charlie's favorites, for sure. Usually when he heard it, it would excite Joey enough to do some awful dance of his and sing in his deliberately off-key voice. Sometimes, if it was sitting in range, he would even convince Charlie to pull the acoustic guitar out to follow along.  ****  
** **

And it was still good, hearing it with him and Trevor asleep. He would just stay up long enough to hear it to its end, then go into stasis like the two of them already had.  ****  
** **

“ _ Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more…”  _ ****  
** **

Slowly moving himself so that he was facing Joey, Charlie rested his head on the already sleeping android’s shoulder, face turned toward him to hear the music even better.  ****  
** **

He could almost forget where they were for a moment. ****  
** **

The lights of the holding cell were dimmed. The corridor outside seemed brighter. Gliding by the window outside, a dreadfully-familiar face was back to haunt the intercom, it seemed. The RK900 paused, looking the scene over just briefly, then he set a hand against the palm pad. ****  
** **

Clicking an affirmative, the door opened. ****  
** **

_ Charlie? Are you still online? _ ****  
** **

Tensing up at the door opening, Charlie forced himself to back off of Joey as slow as he could, to not wake him as he did so.  _ Yeah, I'm still up. …Why?  _ ****  
** **

_ Mind if we… talk a moment? In private? That is, I’m sorry, I know it’s late. But I don’t know if I may have a chance later. _ ****  
** **

For a state-of-the-art android, opening the door before he had a  _ yes _ or  _ no _ seemed to be jumping the gun - with a pole vaulting post - but if it was like Nines said, this being his only chance to ask something candid… ****  
** **

_ Um…  _ Looking back and forth between Trevor and Joey, Charlie shrugged.  _ Sure. Give me a second to get out, don't wanna wake them up.  _ ****  
** **

Not waiting for an answer, he gently lifted up one of their wings to slip himself out from underneath them, as silently as he could. If either of them woke up to see him leaving with Nines, Charlie was sure they would yank him back as soon as they could.  ****  
** **

Luckily, he wasn't without experience of sneaking out with people sleeping close by. Soon enough, he took one last look at them on the bench, before turning back to Nines and walking through the open door. His own black wings lifted, being able to truly move them for the first time after being in the holding cell.  ****  
** **

Eight hours. Had they really been on lockdown that long? ****  
** **

“To interrogation, if you’ll follow me, please,” Nines instructed, voice low, but without any readable tone. But rather than slap the cuffs on or wait for him to move first, the prototype simply led the way, back past the window. ****  
** **

Just what kind of lackluster night crew did Central have, he could get away with doing this? ****  
** **

Where was Connor, or any of his same-series colleagues? ****  
** **

Deciding not to question it right then and there, Charlie just followed as asked, awkwardly lingering near the door of the interrogation room when they got there. He had already been in there once before, with the human lieutenant questioning him. Big help he had been for himself then, as well. The least he could do was cooperate now, if not for himself, then for Joey and Trevor.  ****  
** **

Once inside, Nines effectively locked the door. The pad went red-barred under his hand. ****  
** **

“Uh… what did you wanna talk about?”  ****  
** **

Looking sidelong and down at him, the white-jacketed android actually gave a soft sigh. It sounded almost natural. “Anything more you may have seen in Delray, for starters. I shouldn’t be disclosing anything, but… Connor and Dennis didn’t seem to unearth any leads a second time through.” ****  
** **

“They didn't? But - the parts. Did they find those? They have to be able to get them for something, with all that lying around,” Charlie crossed his arms to stop himself from fidgeting too much, wings beginning to make soft, flinching movements as he did so. He could tell they could use a good combing, especially after the stressful day they went through. The quills were all out of alignment, semi-dry from a lack of oiling. “I can't really remember seeing anything else, really. It was like, weirdly empty, except for that.”  ****  
** **

“Empty… almost as though, it had been cleared out? Recently?” Catching himself thinking out loud, Nines blinked to a stop. “They found parts, but only on the third floor.” ****  
** **

“I remember that there weren't any recent footprints when we went there,” Charlie volunteered the information hesitantly. Who knew if it was important or not? But anything that could help, they might as well bring up. “Joey thought that was weird, I think. And all the other floors were cleared out, yeah.”  ****  
** **

“Curious…” Only a twitch of the prototype’s wings betrayed his thoughts. His LED spun faster, but remained a pale blue. “If there’s any correlation… yes, that may be something.” ****  
** **

In that regard, he was just like Connor: thinking with every hyperthreaded core he possessed, while saying nothing too overt. ****  
** **

But after the scan/recog mishap, Charlie could understand why Nines might not be so trusting of his own analytic processes. Where there was one glitch, there could be others. ****  
** **

“Anything… else?” There wasn't really anything else Charlie could think of to help, but if there was anything at all - he would do his best. Especially after the fiasco he caused, it was the least he could try to do. “I can help.”  ****  
** **

“Do you know anything about the man who owns that warehouse?” Straightforward question aside, Nines’ attention seemed to stray to the unkempt corvid wings. Frayed feathertips stuck out like unbrushed hairs. “Javier Sindino?” ****  
** **

“I don't know anything about him, really,” Giving a self-conscious shrug, Charlie stopped himself from running a hand over either of his wings. They needed some attention, but that could come later. “I've never heard his name before, or anything like that. Like… I don't think we deliver to anyone like that.”  ****  
** **

Maybe it had cropped up on the news once or twice. But by and large, the man may well have been an unknown. ****  
** **

“And your… colleagues at Overclocked? None of them may have originated from fields that might suggest they know him?” ****  
** **

Nines seemed to ask it as delicately as possible. No polite way to inquire if one’s co-workers were from any kind of former criminal background. Not that Molly would ever hire a crook, much less a blacklisted android. ****  
** **

“Nah, Molly wouldn't hire anyone like that. She's really careful, who she lets in, that sort of thing. And Henry, he - he would have known. Would have told Molly, when he did.” Because there had just been something about Henry that made you want to sit and talk to him, tell him all your problems, because he could make them better. No wonder he was some type of lawyer model.  ****  
** **

After a mere moment of silence - was Nines just trying to keep him here as long as he could, outside of the holding cell? - Charlie spoke up again. “You know… it really isn't your fault what happened. I dunno if you think it is, or not… but it was my choice, what I did.”  ****  
** **

Put on notice, the RK900 seemed to freeze. Rearranging any intended response, he blinked, a glimmer of uncertainty (and was that embarrassment?) ghosting across his face. He clearly hadn’t counted on being told as much, going by how poorly-hidden it was. “But - I could have been more thorough. Before the program disconnected, I didn’t wipe any unparsed data from the drive I accessed. The program recommended I do so, but I… ignored it.” ****  
** **

“Okay? C'mon, dude. So, you made your own choice, what's so wrong about that? It's, like, your first case.” With that, Charlie shrugged. It wasn't like Nines deliberately put the idea in his head to go check the building out, or even put the information there intentionally in the first place. “Sorry that you're feeling bad, but listen, I make dumb choices all the time. If I didn't know that, I'm sure it would be something else.”  ****  
** **

LED blinking, the taller android glanced aside. His expression drew back to its usual blank slate, but the lack of eye contact said what it didn’t. Whatever the reassurances, he still seemed unsure. ****  
** **

Which was fair, in hindsight. Nines probably didn’t have the most understanding overseers. Molly and Jackie (and Henry, to an extent) were among the best owners/friends a semi-deviant android could hope for. ****  
** **

Hesitantly, the glacier-blue eyes went back to Charlie’s frayed, black feathers. “You haven’t… preened those since?” ****  
** **

“Um… not yet.” Were they really that bad? Charlie took another glance back at them, brows furrowed as he did so. They weren't in good shape, that much was true. Compared to their once-immaculate state, it was almost sad to see. “I dunno, I'll probably do them when Molly picks us up tomorrow.”  ****  
** **

“The longer you leave them without oil, the harder they are to clean.” Eyes darting, looking like he was hovering on the verge of awkwardness, Nines reached out, almost around the courier’s shoulder, but stopped short. “May I?” ****  
** **

Oh. ****  
** **

Out of all things he expected, Charlie wasn't quite sure he ever thought Nines would ask if he could do that. Really, the only people he let help clean his wings were either sleeping in a holding cell, or… in an evidence locker, or something. He slightly tensed at the raised hand, before making himself relax. It wasn't like he was going to be hurt, it was just an offer for help, from an unexpected source.  ****  
** **

“Um… sure. Thanks.”  ****  
** **

And there was the unspoken confirmation he had quickly suspected was true: Nines was effectively estranged from his fellow sky cops here at the precinct. He wasn’t as well versed in socialization. This was as much about testing the boundaries of etiquette as it was offering some nonverbal penance for unintentionally causing so much trouble. ****  
** **

Stroking almost timidly at first, the prototype smoothed what coverts he could reach, folded up as they were. With only a couple uncertain glances, the minor bit of preening seemed to settle his nerves some small measure. ****  
** **

Looking at his handiwork, a new observation seemed to occur to him. “They don’t - match your hair.” ****  
** **

Charlie shook his head, already letting himself relax at the sensation of someone else cleaning them for him. At least they would be in better shape, by tomorrow when Molly picked him up. “Nah, they're pretty different. I… really like them, though. I really like flying.”  ****  
** **

Like. ****  
** **

There was another concept Nines seemed to be struggling to grasp. Not everything was a matter of mission parameters, case notes, and official orders. ****  
** **

Tilting his head, LED slowing to an almost-yellow shade, Nines raised an eyebrow. “Why black, instead of brown, though?” ****  
** **

“Because it fits the bird, right? Like a crow, that's what they are.” Giving a shrug, Charlie half-turned and shuffled a tiny bit closer, letting Nines continue his work on them. “And it’s just something kinda different.”  ****  
** **

“I… see.” The stroking resumed, followed by a few delicate, precise pulls to realign stubborn quills. “Different isn’t always… a bad thing.” ****  
** **

“It isn't. It's good to be different, even in a little way.” Tilting his head back toward him, Charlie gave a half-smile - more encouragement, if ever there was a gesture for it. “Shit would be real boring, if we were all the same.”  ****  
** **

——- ****  
** **

By the time Charlie was returned to his cell, wings fully preened, Nines had taken the suggestion to heart. ****  
** **

The question now was how the rest of the station would receive it.


End file.
